


the kingslayer and the dragon's whore

by moonblossoms



Series: the kingslayer and the dragon's whore [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rhaegar won, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 14:58:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12344970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonblossoms/pseuds/moonblossoms
Summary: a disgraced Jaime is forced to marry an equally as disgraced Lyanna or Jaime's thought process which consists of constantly thinking about Cersei.





	the kingslayer and the dragon's whore

**Author's Note:**

> this was an excuse for me to sneakily hate on rhaegar through jaime and i also like the concept of jaime and lyanna. the italic text is speech/thoughts. i don't know how many times i wrote the name cersei in this but it's definitely a lot.

Jaime did not want the Stark girl, the wolf bitch and the dragon’s whore. Not because of who she was and what she’d done, for he had done far worse things. He had never wanted any man or woman save his Cersei. His sweet sister who wasn’t as sweet as he claimed her to be, she was oft cruel and spiteful even towards him though none of that mattered. She tasted sweet enough when he kissed her, like Dornish wine and honeyed fruit. And she smelled as sweet as she tasted, a fragrance of flowers and fruity wine always followed her, the scent drawing him in.

He had need for no other person while his sister lived and even when she was a rotting corpse in the crypts, he’d still desire no other. Perhaps he would join her, even if they were leagues apart when she died, her spirit would mayhap lead him away and through the veil to seven hells for all his sins. Perhaps wherever he was, when his sister’s heart beat no more his would falter and stop too. A bond between twins because if they came in to the world together, they should leave it together too. Jaime clutching on to his sister’s foot as she led him straight down to the seven hells.

When he dies, he knows that if the seven hells are real, that’s where’s he’s headed for all the sinful and craven things he has done. Murder, lying and fucking his sister which ironically is the closest thing to paradise he’ll ever get. And he knows it feels far better than any heaven ever could. When he’s burning for his sins, perhaps he can make love to his sister a thousand times and a thousand more, able to pay no heed to the judging eyes and whispers that it’s wrong. Though no one says a word when Targaryen’s wed brother and sister for centuries all to keep their boasted bloodline pure. He only fucks his sister for love.

He’s had many pretty girls throw themselves at him, some brazen about it and some coy, some are just common whores looking for the pretty penny of a Lannister and a good fuck from a handsome man, while others are highborn girls who blush and giggle bash fully when does nothing more than walk by. None are particularly ugly whether they’re exotic whores or comely ladies but if he really looks at them, which he never really does, they’re quite ugly. Sometimes it’s a big nose or crooked teeth. Mostly, it’s simply that they are not Cersei. So when his brothers go out to the city brothels or find themselves in the chambers of one of the many ladies at court all despite their sacred vows, he does not follow suit.

The old knight Barristan Selmy often gives him an approving look because the fool actually thinks that Jaime is keeping to his vows but whenever he sees his sister, he breaks his blasted vows without a second thought. He had always wanted to be like a knight in all the stories, but the glory of knighthood faded quickly and he’d always wanted his sister far more than it anyway. There’s little honour in being a knight, especially one sworn to serve a madman who finds every earthly pleasure only in burning other’s alive. When the Mad King burns innocent people alive in the throne room, he blocks out the screams and the awful smell with thoughts of Cersei. _You’re doing it for Cersei. You don’t care about these people, only Cersei. Her life is the only one that matters._

But she is so far away from that throne room where people die burning and screaming as the King cackles. She’s at Casterly Rock, where he should be and that’s when he falters and wonders why he’s here and why he just lets these people burn. He donned this white cloak for her so they’d never be apart but now they are, she’s at their home while their prideful lord father licks his wounds and bides his time. She must be so lonely with only their brooding father and dwarf brother who Cersei vehemently hates, though Jaime can not share her hatred for him much to her displeasure.

Jaime is quite content to be a bad person. He cares not for morals and taking the high road. So now when they all call him Kingslayer, he only smiles smugly and remembers that King he slayed squealing like a pig as he died, still demanding an inferno to consume them all. He had thought he was a dragon but he was a pig who shat himself when died. When he ponders on why he killed the King, he always comes to the same conclusion. He killed him for his sister and their family too because when old King Aerys II called for Jaime to bring him Tywin Lannister’s head, he threatened their family and their legacy that all meant so much to his twin. So of course, he did it for Cersei, who else but Cersei? He entertains the idea that he did it to save all the people that lived in King’s Landing who would all perish if the King had indeed burned them all. Perhaps he is more like the knights in the stories, saving millions from a terrible fate. But no, they’re not Cersei. They don’t matter to him.

When a haughty and cold-eyed now King Rhaegar juggles the fate of Jaime’s life in his hands, the same hands that play his high harp that makes the girls cry and even his sister’s eyes glisten, the same hands that thrust a sword into Robert Baratheon, the same hands he knows Cersei dreams of caressing her and the same hands that caressed the Stark girl while he fucked her in a tower while a war waged on. The just King Rhaegar does not take his head for killing the old King, a way of appeasing the proud Lord Tywin who had been so scorned by old Aerys.

Rhaegar strips him of his white cloak and shuns him from the Kingsgaurd, with good reason Jaime supposes and he cares little for this punishment. He can go home to Casterly Rock now and be his father’s heir and be his sister’s lover. But that’s too easy, too just of the King. Jaime should have realised that sooner but only does when Rhaegar claims he’ll pick Jaime’s bride for him. It won’t be Cersei of course, he’s always known that but he was content with this fact when he was a member of the Kingsguard. But now he knows he’ll have to put babes in his bride’s belly and provide Casterly Rock with an heir. He doesn’t want a bride if they’re not Cersei, why can’t he just have her.

Instead of his lovely twin, the King so graciously gives him a wolf bitch. Disgraced like him all because she’d ran away with Rhaegar, leaving behind her betrothed Robert Baratheon. Jaime finds it hypocritical that they call Lyanna the dragon’s whore but don’t call Rhaegar the wolf’s whore. No one shames Rhaegar for leaving his wife Elia and their children to fuck a girl in some far away tower. But only the Stark girl is seen as a disgrace, quite like him but for different reasons. The girl was a fool, though so was the wonderful King Rhaegar. The Last Dragon they called him for starting a war that he at least had the decency to help end. They call Jaime the Kingslayer for saving countless lives from a madman though no one is grateful to him so maybe he should’ve let them all burn. And they call Lyanna Stark the dragon’s whore for being a fool in love.

Maybe he pities the girl for all the strife and sorrow loving Rhaegar seems to have caused her, it lost her a brother and a father as well as a babe or so he’s heard. But he does not care about her let alone love her or want to marry her. But if he wants to keep his head then he should do well to simply accept his Northern bride, though he cares little for whether he loses his head because really, he’s only living for Cersei. But he’ll live for her and to appease his father too, who only wants a fertile bride for his heir though he can only imagine the rage Tywin Lannister hides when Rhaegar gives Jaime his discarded whore who will one day be Lady of Casterly Rock. His father does not dare to voice his disapproval.

The King demands they marry in the capital at the Sept of Baelor despite the Starks worshipping the Old Gods which he supposes is something the King cares little about. They are to marry within a week and although the King offers to walk Lyanna down the aisle, she all but stomps her feet and demands her brother Eddard shall be the only man to have that honour. He remembers Eddard Stark’s disgusted expression when he learns that Jaime killed his the King he was sworn to protect, even though honourable old Ned Stark led the bloody rebellion with Robert Baratheon. He doesn’t care what Ned thinks of him and he doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him, not the King, not Ser Barristan nor Ser Arthur, not Queen Rhaella, not even his bride to be. Only Cersei.

Somehow, unbeknownst to him, a ragged and exhausted Ned Stark makes it to the capital with time to spare. Apparently the fool rode night and day with little to no rest or food, all for his sister. Jaime can’t truly judge because he’d do exactly the same for his own sister and even more. But Lyanna Stark is not Cersei so he can’t share Ned Stark’s sentiment. He hasn’t even met his future wife when the Stark man sets him with a gaze as cold as the winter they so often warn others of and tells Jaime to never hurt his sister. _I don’t care if you don’t love her or care for her even a bit, but don’t dare hurt her Lannister. She’s just a girl and she’s already suffered enough to pain to last her a lifetime. Don’t hurt her like he did_. Jaime knows who Ned means and only nods at him, regarding the other man with a blank expression. He supposes that he owes her that at least, he’s not Rhaegar.

On the morning of his wedding, he goes to his sister’s room and loses himself inside of her. She lets him of course and writhes under him, crying out his name. She’s the only person he wants to be with her like this. Once spent, he tells her he loves her and only her and kisses her deeply. Cersei only smirks at him, shaking her head. _Go. Run along brother, your northern bitch awaits you_. He feels something inside of him whither at her cold jape but he still dresses quickly, leaving his sister’s room reluctantly. He wonders when he’ll even get to make love to her again. Tonight he’ll have to lay with his new wife. He’s never been with another woman. But then Lyanna Stark has likely only laid with Rhaegar. Perhaps when he’s inside of her thinking only of his sister, she’ll be thinking only of her dragon king.

The first time he sees her in the sept of Baelor, he thinks she looks like a damned child even though he knows she’s six and ten now, and he’s only a year or so older than her. But she looks so small and her dress does not hide the fact that she has small breasts and narrow hips, unlike his curvy and womanly sister. She looks like a child too, though there is no fear in her eyes only a cold anger and defiance. Her lips are set in a straight line, her shoulders are stiff and her chin raised ever so slightly. He almost wants to laugh at her but he can admire her courage if but a little. She has brought a cold chill from the North with her, to keep her cold in the South.

She wears a surprisingly simple gown that is silver and white but modest compared to what the other ladies wear, and she wears a grey cloak with a dire wolf embroidered on and a wreath of blue roses in her loose, brown curls. The king’s gaze flits to the roses and looks so conflicted that Jaime wants to laugh at the silver fool. Because what’s silver to gold? And everyone always says that Lannisters are golden. Golden fools mayhap but Jaime decides it’s better to be golden than silver or steel like his new bride’s eyes. They pair say the vows, both so devoid of any emotion as they stare at each other and he rids her of her cloak, bestowing her one of red and gold. She looks strange in it, it doesn’t belong on her but it would be befitting of Cersei. He kisses her briefly, both of them pleased to keep it short it seems.

They leave the sept as man and wife to a thousand claps that deafen him and make him want to scream. This is no joyous occasion yet these fools simply clap and clamour about the happy couple that he and his wife are not. He cannot bear to look at Cersei in her red and gold gown with her baleful green eyes burning into him. He’s so ashamed and angry because it should’ve been her that he married but it’s not, it was never going to be. The world does not simply reward men like him. In fact, the world doesn’t reward anyone truly. The Gods are unjust for everyone only suffers and dies.

It is not until they sit side by side at the banquet table for their wedding feast that his wife speaks to him, after everyone has said their congratulations even the King who was far from happy for them. He’s heard her say their vows and thank everyone in a cold, stony voice like the icy winds from which she hails. But she hasn’t spoken to him at all until now and all she does is thank him. _Thank you. For killing him. When I heard of what you’d done, I wanted nothing more than to thank you even if you didn’t do it for me or my brother or father. I don’t really know why you did it, but I’ll thank you nonetheless_. He wants to tell her that he only did it for his sister, but the words don’t come to him and he wonders if he really did do it for Cersei. She had all but screamed at him when she came to visit him in his cell as he waited for his judgment and pondered whether they’d cut off his head or send him to the Wall. But they gave him a disgraced northern bride instead who has her own wall of ice around her it seemed and let him keep his head.

He meets the gaze of Lyanna Stark- nay, she’s a Lannister now, and he sees two grey and sorrowful eyes staring back at him. They’re sitting in the throne room, the same room where her brother and father perished and if he shuts out all the noise and closes off his senses, he can still hear Brandon Stark cursing Aerys and screaming for his father while his father screamed too. Jaime swears the smell of burning flesh and wildfire still lingers but that could just be a cruel memory here to haunt him. He lets out a hollow laugh, still looking into those sad eyes that maybe even mirror his own. _No one’s ever thanked me before, not for that_.


End file.
